


Indulgence

by onionstories



Series: Ambivalence [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (Very mild), M/M, Possession, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, mild Self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8213426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onionstories/pseuds/onionstories
Summary: Bill needed to be closer, much closer, to his favorite pawn. He wanted to be in his arms, only for a short while, he wanted to be held, although he'd never admit it. But, he had a job to do. He was not some lovesick, touch-starved creature, he had a job to do. He was a "Muse," and he needed to help his Fordsie.Borrowing his pawn's arms would have to make do as a nice substitute to being in them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to my other story, Ambivalence. You don't need to read that one to understand this one, but if you did read that one, this one is in the same style. Inspired by an anonymous comment on that fic, wondering what it was like back when Bill and Ford were working together, like the possession times.

Bill Cipher always prided himself on never needing any company.

Of course, it was preferred to have some, but he could make do. Trillions of years of friends who came and went, ~~_driven away by his awfulness,_~~ and one learns to make do with being alone.

But Bill never had to "make do." He never needed it in the first place. ~~_But I did. I still do. Why are you lying?_~~

When the six-fingered man reached out to Bill for help, the triangle appeared, of course he did, the man was a genius, he would be an amazing asset to his plans for dimensional conquest. ~~_That's not the **only**  reason I did it._~~

There was something about the man- his voice, his face, his personality, or something else- that left Bill unable to stop thinking about him. His mind lingered, he kept constant watch, more constant than needed. ~~_T ~~h~~ at's creepy._~~ He wondered about this man. Why he decided to dedicate his life to studying anomalies, why, despite seemingly the entire world being against him, roadblock after roadblock, and stolen opportunities, he decided to keep going.

He kept telling himself, that was what he admired in his newest pawn. Nothing else. It was strictly a curiosity about a business partner. Until, a thought popped into his never-resting mind:

_I wonder what it'd feel like if he held me?_

Bill had tried to get the thought out of his head, over and over, but it always came back, repeating itself, as the triangle tried to rid his mind of it, with the frenzy that someone would find out he was thinking it of he didn't stop in time.

But nobody did.

And, in time, he gave in, and answered his own question.

It would be warm. Humans are warm-blooded, Bill reminded himself. If ~~_his Fordsie_~~  his pawn held him, for whatever reason, it would be warm, because his pawn was warm. Question answered.

Bill always loved warmth. _~~I was partial.~~_

It wasn't because of ~~_his Fordsie_~~  his pawn that he suddenly found himself loving the idea of warmth.

The thoughts were there, nagging at him, for more detail, to fuel the fantasy he didn't know why he was having. _~~You knew why.~~_

_How would I fit in his arms, as a triangle?_

_Would it be awkward?_

~~_Would he ever like me enough to hold me?_ ~~

_Would it be more comfortable to be in his arms with the extra fingers?_

~~_Does he even like me **now?**_ ~~

_Is it weird that I want this? It's so stupid!!_

He limited his contact with his pawn. Perhaps he was getting too attached. But the less he saw him, the more he ached to see him again, to at least watch him from a dimension away. Even when giving in to the urge to watch him, he felt a tug in his chest, the feeling that this wasn't _enough,_  he needed to _be there._  With his Fordsie.

He wanted to be closer. ~~_I needed to be closer._~~

He wanted to be closer, to get the thoughts out. He had a job to do. _~~You wanted him.~~_

So, Bill Cipher asked to get as close to his Fordsie as possible.

He _had_  to ask, it was something he did. Even if it was a trick, he had to ask. _~~No, you didn't. You just wanted to ask.~~  He had to ask._

But he would never trick his Fordsie. ~~_You did. You did and you hurt him._~~

For his body, he would never trick his Fordsie.

* * *

 He woke up feeling the weight of gravity pushing his borrowed, larger body down. He lifted his new head and looked around- he was in his Fordsie's private study. _Alone._  A few moments of ~~_vulnerability_~~  indulgence wouldn't hurt, right?

He turned his Fordsie's hands around, and around again, wiggling each finger individually, caressing the sixth finger with his other hand, feeling a genuine smile stretch his lips. He ran his fingers through his Fordsie's hair. --It's as soft as I thought it'd be.-- A silly thought crossed his mind; what if he lay in that hair, in his true form? He pushed it away as soon as it occurred, embarrassed that he ever thought it up.

Eyes darted around the room, worried that, secretly, there was someone hiding there, watching him, knowing of his indulgence. ~~_He was worried because it was a moment of vulnerability, where his deepest desires were brought to the forefront._~~  Still on edge, he wrapped his arms around "himself," and let his body relax- closing his eyes and imagining that he wasn't hugging himself in a borrowed body, but rather, _~~his love~~_  his Fordsie, for some reason, hugging /him,/ and Bill relaxing into his hold, savoring the warmth that came with it, and the  _comfort,_  he forgot, humans were soft, but he never realized that they were _so comfortably soft._  He was a being who never required sleep, and thus never slept, but he admitted to himself that if Fordsie ever hugged him like this, he would fall asleep, just for the pleasure.

Or, perhaps that was simply the fatigue of his borrowed body talking. ~~_It wasn't, and you know it._~~

He buried "his" head into "his" arms, and tentatively took a whiff. His Fordsie smelled of pine needles, most likely from all those trips into the woods for anomalies to find, and coffee, with the faint smell of ink here and there. Bill never thought he'd like that combination of smells, or _any_  combination of smells, as that was typically the one part of possession he hated- that one extra sense. But, for reasons unknown to him, he found himself loving that one specific combination. _~~You knew why.~~_

But he had a job to do.

He made a promise to his Fordsie. Give him his body, and he would help him. He grabbed some papers and began writing the complex calculations his Fordsie needed, feeling a twinge of admiration for the human who could manage to comprehend all of what he was writing. His Fordsie was the only one he knew of who could, and he felt honestly, genuinely happy to know a man so brilliant.

_~~He only likes you for your help.~~ _

He and Fordsie could be great friends. With Bill's silver tongue, he could convince Fordsie of his plan's brilliance, and he would be on his side.

_~~Why would he want to be stuck with something like **you?**~~ _

They would be together forever. Bill could make him immortal. It'd be _easy._

_~~He'd hate it. He'd hate **you.**~~ _

Bill would never have to make do with solitude again.

_~~He'll never love you. He doesn't even **like** you.~~ _

Because Fordsie loved Bill's company, and Bill knew it.

~~_You'd be worthless to him if you didn't help him._ ~~

The equations were done; Bill was a fast worker. He slammed "his" hand into the desk, pain blossoming where it impacted. The feeling was a comforting, familiar one. He'd forgotten how _good_  it felt, and it would serve as a much-needed distraction from the thoughts that plagued him. He opened the drawer on Fordsie's desk and placed an arm in, and slammed it shut with as much force as he could muster. He resisted the urge to cry out, and a wide smile stretched "his" lips; it felt so good. _~~And besides, he deserved pain, so it was a two birds one stone situation.~~_

Six-fingered punches and slamming arms into drawers, he resisted the urge to do worse, like biting, clawing, or stabbing. He would never want to hurt his Fordsie the way he hurt himself. But, he figured, this wasn't that bad. Bruises fade away, they leave in a few days, it wasn't that big a deal. ~~_You're still hurting him. I thought you said you'd never hurt him?_~~

Exhaustion from the frantic self-injury session _~~and the heavy weight of guilt~~_  overtook Bill, and his borrowed body was weighed down by gravity so severely that he was unable to lift his head. He forced himself to grab his Fordsie's journal and write a quick little coded note before he passed out and relinquished control:

_Enjoy the mystery bruises!_

* * *

His Fordsie thanked him, and thanked him again, for his calculations the following day, and Bill felt silly for ever thinking anyone, much less his Fordsie, disliked him. _~~But deep down, he knew he was correct.~~_  Bill listened as his Fordsie sung praises and talked about him in his journal, overjoyed that his Muse appeared to him and graciously offered his help, and Bill watched. 

He watched, and felt warm, as if his Fordsie held him in his arms, and there were no calculations, no portal, no plans. Just him and his Fordsie, and the comforting scent of pine needles and coffee. Just them, together, and nothing else.

But that could never happen. Bill Cipher had a job to do.

~~_Why didn't I ever stop?_ ~~

This will make him happy.

~~_It won't make me happy. **Fordsie** made happy._ ~~

Trillions of years committing atrocities that he was secretly sickened by were not for nothing.

Bill Cipher had a job to do. But for now, he simply forgot and let himself indulge and imagine himself in the arms of the man he loved.

Just them, and nothing else.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this one wasn't as long as my usual things, but I hoped you liked it! Kudos and comment and all that fun stuff (unless you don't wanna)


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